


I Know I Said That Last Time Was the Last Time but Nothing Really Ends Around Here, Does It?

by badgerling



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Characters Talking, Historical, Immortal Murder Found Family, M/M, One Time in Malta, Period-Typical Racism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, The Holy Roman Empire Expelling Muslims from Malta in 1246, The Others are Only in it Briefly, This Is Just an Excuse for These Two to Talk About Feelings, This is a Nicky/Joe Story, so technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26175478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgerling/pseuds/badgerling
Summary: This is the first time in Malta, it's not the only time, and it's probably not evenThatTime in Malta, but it is the first, and after almost a hundred and fifty hundred years, feelings can get to be too much.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani & Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 10
Kudos: 203





	I Know I Said That Last Time Was the Last Time but Nothing Really Ends Around Here, Does It?

**Author's Note:**

> Unless otherwise noted, all dialogue is in Arabic. Once again, I'm not fluent in it, and I'm not going to trust Google Translate.
> 
> Honestly, all of my _The Old Guard_ fanfic is just going to be characters talking about feelings. I can't help it.
> 
> Not mine. Greg Rucka, Leandro Fernandez, Image Comics, and Netflix own them. No infringement intended.

**_Malta, 1246_ **

It had taken an hour but Yusuf had finally managed to get the water warm enough. It wasn't that Malta was all that cold, but the seasons had changed, there was a chill in the air, and Yusuf prefered the warmer nights of the desert, of the coast, even an ocean's breeze was preferable to winter. Some of that could have been the fact that the city around the inn seemed darker, less friendly. It had been raining all day, and the air was damp and oppressive. Everything felt heavy.

It was too quiet, and that fact made Yusuf sink down in the warm-but-not-warm-enough water as he looked out the window at the night that was rapidly growing darker.

Of course, the quiet was interrupted by Nicolo bursting in the door, said door practically rattling in the frame as it slammed back against the wall and then back shut again, as he came into their rented room. "Yusuf!" he shouted, sounding urgent, desperate almost, panicked, and before Yusuf could even say he was in the washroom, Nicolo burst in there, his expression going immediately from worried and rushed to relieved and relaxed. He walked over to the edge of the tub, looking down at Yusuf. 

At all of him, his eyes raking down the full length of him, and Yusuf had to clear his throat because it didn't take long before he felt his body responding just to Nicolo looking at him. He shifted in the water as he looked up at him, trying his best not to look as breathless as he felt, as he always felt, and Nicolo looked away finally.

It was always like that. It had been for...almost a century and a half. The dreams after killing each other four times, blue eyes shining in the sunlight, nights spent with his arms wrapped around Nicolo, one hand always pressed against the softness of his belly, right where he had killed him the first time, like it was some kind of comfort.

And nothing else. 

It had taken years to admit he wanted more, of course, to admit that his attraction to Nicolo went further than the man being beautiful and annoying and always there, right behind him, haunting him like a ghost leftover from the battlefield. But eventually...Yusuf wanted everything.

It was torture.

He had to look away from him, clearing his throat again as Nicolo dropped almost bonelessly to sit next to the tub. That way, at least, Nicolo wouldn't see Yusuf's still hardening dick, and maybe Yusuf wouldn't be struck so dumb by the crusader's beauty. That was unlikely, though, considering he couldn't stop staring at the other's profile, taking in every line, every tiny small blemish that just made him more beautiful. He snorted softly, knowing he was ridiculous, knowing he was just torturing himself more, but Nicolo still made his heart stop every time he saw him.

Finally Yusuf forced himself to look completely away, back to the window and the too-quiet night. "There's no call to prayer," he said, softly, suddenly realizing why the evening seemed so quiet. He had learned long ago in another time, another war, to watch the sky, to track prayer times that way, but he had become used to the sound of the mosque. It was jarring. Nicolo made a soft sound at that, and Yusuf turned to look at him, as Nicolo leaned his arm on the edge of the tub, his fingers dangling in the bathwater. "Nicolo."

Because Yusuf remembered the look on his face. Something had caused that panic.

"Frederick...the king has ordered all Muslims to be forced out of Malta. I thought...," and Nicolo trailed off at that, finally looking at Yusuf, just studying him in the dim light, and Yusuf lifted his hand to link their fingers together where Nicolo's dangled over the tub.

"They wouldn't have come this soon." It takes more than a few hours to gather an army, after all, assuming this order wasn't something that had been planned for longer. Considering the current emperor, though… "They wouldn't have made it through the door if they had come to this room looking for me, for trouble," Yusuf replied, squeezing Nicolo's fingers gently before he lifted them, bring them to his lips, kissing each knuckle separately until it seemed like Nicolo's breath was short, coming in quiet little pants.

That was playing with fire.

Yusuf let go of Nicolo's hand then, shaking his head slightly. "So this is it."

It was Nicolo's turn to look confused, eyes narrowed, as if trying to follow how it went from kissing hands to such finality. "I don't...." His expression mirrored how he had looked when he was first learning Darija when he was sure that Yusuf was messing with him, that he had missed part of the conversation.

"You should stay." Yusuf knew there wasn't any sense in fighting an expulsion from an entire country. He knew it was only a matter of time before this emperor sent an army to make sure it was done, and while he and Nicolo would survive, many innocents would not. He lifted his hands out of the water, shifting in the tub, and reaching over to cup Nicolo's cheeks. "You're happy here, my heart." Yusuf stopped then, biting his cheek because that was never something he had called Nicolo before. He traced Nicolo's lower lip with his thumb. "So stay. I will go, find the women, tell them where you are." He smiled, something he was sure was strained but he tried, and his voice wasn't much better as he added, "It'll be fine, Nicolo."

Nicolo just huffed at that, pulling back sharply and rising to his feet. He turned like he was going to say something, but he settled for just waving it away and practically storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him in a way that made Yusuf's breath catch and everything hurt. His heart was pounding, it even hurt to breathe, reminding him so much of coming back to life and fighting for air. Losing Nicolo was...wrenching. Like pieces of himself were already falling off.

Yusuf could only sink back against the tub and wish he could actually, permanently drown.

Finally the water went too cold to even be kind of comfortable, and Yusuf pushed himself out of the tub. He grabbed the linen robe, wrapping it around his body, and he hesitated at the door. He wasn't sure he wanted to walk out of the room. After all, Nicolo was probably already in the process of leaving. Or already gone. Yusuf let himself fall forward, pressing his forehead against the door as he steeled himself for what he would find.

Which was apparently just Nicolo pulling their things off of shelves and out of drawers and dropping them onto the floor. Yusuf blinked at him, tying the thin belt around his waist to keep the robe closed as he stepped forward, reaching down and picking up one of the books piled on the floor. It was one of his, and right under it was one of Nicolo's favorites. "Nicolo...." Yusuf still wasn't entirely sure what was going on. He could guess, but it hurt too much to think he might be wrong.

"No." Nicolo stopped pulling clothing out of the armoire, and he turned to point at Yusuf. "You do not get to speak. You're going to go through all of this, decide what we are taking with us, and you are going to listen." When Yusuf just blinked at it, Nicolo cursed in Latin and walked over to him. He grabbed Yusuf's shoulders and steered him toward the bed. He pushed him down, forcing Yusuf to sit.

"Nicolo."

"Stop saying my name like it's going to change my mind, Yusuf," Nicolo admonished, his voice actually stern, and Yusuf blinked up at him. Nicolo gestured down at the books before returning to pulling things out of other pieces of furniture. "I don't know if you simply haven't noticed or if you think it's for some reason not true," Nicolo said, speaking so fast in a language he still wasn't comfortable with that his words seemed to tumble over one another, as he gathered clothes and blankets in his arms before turning and dumping them on the bed. They had been here for a year, but Yusuf hadn't thought they had accumulated this much. "We are fated. Our souls are....are..." He trailed off struggling with the Arabic. He always had whenever he got flustered. "Tied? Tied." Apparently that was good enough.

Yusuf set the book he had been looking at aside and rose to his feet, the movement getting a sharp look from Nicolo, but Yusuf held out his hands in a kind of surrender. He reached out for Nicolo, stopping him from grabbing more things to toss on the floor. "We don't need this."

"What?" That confusion was born from the sudden change of subject, Yusuf knew.

"The things. We don't need them. It can be replaced. It will be. All of it," and Yusuf was mainly stalling, speaking just to organize his words, figure out the best way to say what he needed to say. "I only offered to go because you like it here." So did Yusuf. It was a beautiful place, the people were lovely, the water warm, and Nicolo had been so breathtaking that Yusuf had begged Allah to simply let that be enough, to let this...this love end with the sight of His beautiful Nicolo in the Maltese sun. 

It hadn't.

"It doesn't matter if I like it here. I would not be...." He finished the sentence in Latin, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

"Happy," Yusuf supplied, and Nicolo pointed at him to show he was correct.

"I would be miserable here if you left. Just like I would have been miserable if you had left me on the blood-soaked field outside the walls of Jerusalem, or if I had never left Genoa."

"How do you know blood-soaked but not happy?"

"I know happy! But you...you make it hard to think of the right words, you always have," and Nicolo snorted, shaking his head and he shoved Yusuf's shoulder lightly at the grammar comments and Yusuf caught his wrist, shifting his grip so that he could link their fingers. Nicolo smiled then, but it was tinged with sadness. "But can you imagine? The state I would be in, if I had not gone to war, if I had not forsaken my vows and marched into your lands, if you hadn't found me, saved me...well. I would have been the saddest priest in all of Genoa."

"It was a war, beloved."

"It was a religious experience, Yusuf." Yusuf scoffed, and Nicolo laughed as he actually moved into Yusuf's arms. "You...were a religious experience. I died, and I dreamed, and I saw brown eyes with flecks of gold in them every time I did. I was drowning and choking but safe?" Nicolo shook his head at that before he continued, "And then I found you, and I knew. I _knew_." He pressed his forehead against Yusuf's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around Yusuf's waist, pulling him tight.

Yusuf curled into the warmth of him, pressing his face into the curve of his neck. He smiled faintly, his mouth pressed against Nicolo's skin, and he didn't move away as he asked, "Can I speak now, or am I still just supposed to listen?" He felt Nicolo shiver at his breath ghosted over his skin, and he pressed closer. Yusuf took that for permission. 

"Your eyes are the same color of the ocean just offshore from where I grew up, did you know?" Yusuf didn't wait for an answer, he knew Nicolo didn't, they had never talked about the homes they had left behind, not really. Remembering the families and friends that were dead now was, had been, especially painful. He straightened, sliding his hands up Nicolo's back to curl his fingers in his hair. "I was drowning, too. Every time I died, you were there with your eyes so much like home." Yuuf exhaled softly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of Nicolo's mouth.

"I don't know why we were chosen to come back. I don't know why it was you or me or the both of us, but I think we're fated." He let his lips quirk slightly. "Tied." Nicolo rolled his eyes at that, but Yusuf tugged gently on his hair. "And the thought of you leaving or me leaving you, it...." He had to take a deep breath and look away for a moment. "Even thinking about it felt like losing a piece of myself, so we're not going to entertain the idea of being apart." Nicolo opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but Yusuf tugged on his hair again. "Ever."

Nicolo smiled then, shaking his head and he looked like he was going to say something else, and Yusuf didn't know if he was going to argue or if he had more to say, but Yusuf didn't give him a chance. He used his hold on Nicolo's hair to push him forward, capturing his mouth in a kiss. A real one. The first one, a first kiss that was far from perfect, but it caught Nicolo off-guard and he actually gasped, his lips parting, and Yusuf took that as an invitation to deepen the kiss.

Apparently Nicolo wasn't caught off-guard for long as he moved slowly, refusing to break the kiss even as he urged Yusuf back. Not away, keeping his arms still wrapped firmly around him, keeping him close even as he moved them both backward. Eventually, the backs of Yusuf's knees hit the edge of the bed, and he broke the kiss to pull back to look at Nicolo.

He didn't get the chance to say anything before Nicolo pushed him down on the bed, and Yusuf went willingly. Of course he did. He had discovered a century ago, he would follow this man anywhere, do whatever he asked, but he was only just realizing Nicolo would do the same for him. As he settled down next to him, body flush against his, hard cock pressed against Yusuf's hip, all he could think about was this beautiful man, the man he had gone to war against.

"Yusuf...," but anything else Nicolo was planning on saying was cut off with another kiss. His hands trailed down Nicolo's body, down to his thighs, and he urged him up, urged him to straddle first his hips then his chest, then eventually his shoulders. He looked up Nicolo's body as Nicolo braced himself against the wall above the bed, and he shot a confused look down at Yusuf.

Until Yusuf angled his head up and took the head of Nicolo's cock in his mouth. He sucked on only the head, running his tongue around it, over the slit, tasting the precome, until he heard the pleading whine coming from Nicolo's throat.

Yusuf brought his hands up to grip his thighs, supporting him, holding him in place, as he took another inch of the other man into his mouth. Slowly, taking his time to enjoy the noises Nicolo was making, the small thrusts as the crusader fought to keep himself under control, as Yusuf gave himself time to adjust to the heavy feeling, the glorious taste of him, but eventually he managed to get all of him in his mouth.

He hummed softly around the width and girth of Nicolo, and he felt it vibrate through him as he shivered from the feeling. His hands slid up from Nicolo's thighs to his ass, pressing gently, urging him just a little bit more into his mouth, giving him permission to thrust as Yusuf moved back up the length of him. It was an easy rhythm to fall into, Yusuf moving up the length of Nicolo's dick, Nicolo thrusting deep into his mouth when he couldn't stand being away from the warmth any more.

Yusuf's fingers moved between the cheeks of Nicolo's ass, pressing and rubbing gently against his entrance which earned him another desperate, pleading whine, and he kept up that gentle massage as they both started moving faster, in and out, until Nicolo's breathing was ragged, his whimpering becoming constant until he came, hard, spilling down Yusuf's throat with a shout that sounded like a mixture of Darija and Ligurian.

Yusuf moved his head back, then, slowly taking his mouth off of Nicolo's dick as he swallowed. He had to wipe his mouth with his fingers from where Nicolo had spilled over his lips. He looked up the length of Nicolo before he urged him back down beside him.

"Mother of God," Nicolo muttered as he pressed his face against Yusuf's neck, and Yusuf could only laugh softly.

"No praying, Nicolo, not now," he said as he pressed a kiss to Nicolo's forehead. Nicolo huffed slightly, shifting his weight and sliding to straddle Yusuf's hips. He leaned forward to kiss Yusuf slowly, and Yusuf never wanted that moment to end, but Nicolo eventually broke the kiss.

He nuzzled his nose against Yusuf's for a moment before he reached down and took Yusuf's hand, the one he had used to wipe his lips clean of Nicolo's come. He pressed a kiss to his fingertips before he sucked each finger into his mouth, licking them clean. Yusuf's cock throbbed with each touch of Nicolo's tongue, and he was pretty sure this was actually going to kill him. Permanently, completely, kiss him.

He swallowed hard, reaching down with his free hand to grip Nicolo's shoulder. "We...we need to leave, my heart. This emperor is the impatient sort."

Nicolo bit his lip as he pinned Yusuf's hand against the bed. "We have the night, beloved. We'll start looking for passage north in the morning," and his smile was a little bit wicked as he leaned in and kissed Yusuf again, deeply and hungrily, pressing his body against Yusuf's.

Eventually, they made it back to the mainland, but it took weeks (the longest time spent just trying to book passage on a ship that would get them to Napoli, most ships were heading south, and Yusuf said they still needed to find the women), but they were back to sleeping outside, not really trusting any actual town or village to leave them alone. Yusuf wasn't willing to give up his religion, and Nicolo was not willing to ask him to convert, to lie just for some illusion of safety.

So they slept outside, huddled together underneath the tent they had managed to barter away from a merchant who had given up on following armies south toward whatever Crusade kings and lords and popes were fighting now. It wasn't the best life but it was, surprisingly, comfortable. He had Nicolo, Nicolo had him, and they both had the reassurance that neither one was going to leave the other behind. So they both slept easier, still in the same position as they had adopted shortly after their war, Nicolo in front, Yusuf behind, his hands gripping Nicolo in the spots he had first killed him.

That hadn't changed since Malta, since they started sleeping naked. Their shared body heat, the heavy winter furs, both were enough to keep them warm, and they stayed away from roads and paths and didn't usually have to worry about being woken up by strangers.

Usually.

Until one cold winter evening, not far north of the Rubicon, when the two women of their dreams finally found them.

They had retreated into a cave for the evening, just for a little extra warmth, and Nicolo woke up first, pulling away from Yusuf and grabbing for his sword as he scrambled to his feet before Yusuf had even fully come awake, before Yusuf had even managed to sit up, and much like when they sept, he was between Yusuf and any threats. Once Yusuf got a good look at the threats, though, he climbed to his feet and stepped close to Nicolo, his hand going to the other man's bare hip, his fingers digging in just enough to make sure he had Nicolo's attention.

"The dreams, Nicolo," he said in Ligurian. He didn't know if the women would understand him, honestly, he figured they probably would regardless, but Nicolo's attention didn't waver from the woman with the black hair, the one who had a quiver of arrows on her back but a sword of her own drawn.

"I remember, Yusuf." He pointed at the black haired woman with his sword. "The dreams about that one are why my sword is out."

Clearly the women understood what they were saying when the black-haired one laughed and said something to the other, who only smirked and shook her head. Yusuf stepped up to stand next to Nicolo, only to find himself shouldered back a little, as Nicolo made sure he was still firmly between Yusuf and danger. "Nicolo," he said softly, but his hand stayed at his hips, and he didn't try to move forward again.

"How many times did you kill each other?" The woman who wasn't currently menacing Nicolo with a sword spoke perfect Latin with an accent Yusuf couldn't place.

"Four," Yusuf replied in Ligurian.

"Was it four? You left a knife in my back that I'm pretty sure killed me several times before I finally managed to dislodge it," Nicolo responded, glancing over his shoulder at Yusuf, but he was smiling slightly, only teasing, and Yusuf squeezed his hip gently.

"You killed me four times, let's say I killed you an even ten, then?" Nicolo tilted his head consideringly before finally he nodded with a wink.

"And now you are naked in the forest," the one with the sword replied in Latin, her accent also difficult for Yusuf to place.

"Cave, technically," Yusuf said, smiling slightly at her as he reached out and pressed his hand to Nicolo's forearm, trying to push his sword arm down. "Who are you?"

"Andromache the Scythian," the woman without a sword said, and pointed to the other woman, "Quynh of Zhenla." That got her a look from the other woman - Quynh, apparently - but she grinned and shrugged. "Close enough."

"I am centuries older than that dynasty," she said, laughing as she shook her head before she finally dropped the point of her sword and stepped out of her fighting stance.

Andromache shrugged, smiling as she glanced over at Nicolo and Yusuf. "Your turn." She canted her head slightly. "Or do you want to put clothes on first?"

"We were comfortable. You interrupted us," Nicolo said, dropping his sword and pressing the point into the ground. 

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Yusuf said with a laugh as he finally released Nicolo's hip and forearm, stepping back. He bent down, snagging two of the fur blankets and turned back to Nicolo who was leering at him, even as he was fighting back a grin. Yusuf laughed and shook his head as he tossed one of the furs at Nicolo before wrapping the other one around himself. He tapped the center of his chest. "Yusuf al-Kaysani." He pointed towards Nicolo. "Nicolo di Genova."

"You were on opposite sides…" Quynh said, tilting her head at them with only a little confusion on her face as she moved to sit down by the still smoldering fire. Nicolo followed her to pick up some of the kindling they had leftover, stoking the fire up to warm the cave again.

"Mhm," Yusuf said, taking a spot across the fire from her as Andromache sat next to her. Once he was done stoking the fire, Nicolo joined Yusuf, sitting close enough that his body pressed a warm line along Yusuf's even through the furs, and for a moment, Yusuf was struck, looking over at Nicolo, watching the firelight dance over his features. He let out a breath, bit back a sudden declaration of how beautiful he was, and turned back to the two women. "It's a long story."

"We've got nothing but time," Andromache replied with a smile.

Yusuf grinned then, pressing a kiss to Nicolo's hair. "I suppose that's true." Yusuf glanced back over at the women, just in time to catch a dark look that Quynh shot toward Andromache. "What?" When Quynh turned back to him, she kept her eyes wide, her expression innocent. "That look. What did it mean?" He felt Nicolo sit up straighter, caught him looking between them, but Andromache just shook her head.

"It's not...there's time for all of that later. You...both of you, probably have a lot of questions."

"And you have all the answers?" Nicolo's question was teasing, only slightly sarcastic. Yusuf had given up long ago actually seeking answers to their condition

"We have stories," Quynh replied.

"Stories are better than answers," Nicolo said, smiling fully then as he relaxed and leaned against Yusuf again, that warm line searing into Yusuf and resting at the base of his spine. Just like always.


End file.
